Chapter Twenty-Nine #3
“The hell we will,” Grayson said. “It’s literally freezing. You were on the verge of hypothermia.”
“Was, past tense,” said Reece. “And counterpoint: I really want you to fuck me.”
Grayson’s breath hitched again. And suddenly he was twisting, not the awkward way Reece had tried to maneuver in the sleeping
bag’s confines, but graceful and strong as he rolled them together onto their sides, Reece on the edge of the truck’s back
seat but held by the curve of the sleeping bag with no risk of falling.
Grayson kissed him again, and it was Reece’s turn for a broken groan as he was pulled in closer by the hand still on his ass.
“That your preference?”
“Oh, I’m very flexible. Don’t you remember me accidentally spilling that detail to the press?” Reece said into the kiss. “But I can’t get
all our talk about tight fits out of my head.”
“I’m not gonna let you get frostbite just so I can get you on my dick.”
“I’m not going to get frostbite,” Reece said. “I’m back up to normal temperature now—”
“Believe me, I’m well aware you got all your empath body heat back. Been a long time since anything felt as good as you.”
Grayson sounded very honest, his hands exploring Reece as they kissed, leaving fireworks everywhere they touched. “We finally
got you warm, so I’m gonna keep you right here in this sleeping bag.”
“But if your body can warm me this much, think what your dick could do.”
Grayson snorted. “Even if I was willing to let you freeze—which I’m not—we don’t have anything like lube in this truck. We keep talking tight fits because I’m twice your size, sugar; you really gonna take me without it?”
“Oh my God, you’re so vain.” Reece broke the kiss, squirming down into the sleeping bag until he could slide his hand under the elastic waistband of
the boxer briefs. “Your dick isn’t as huge as you’re convinced it—” His words twisted into telltale discordance as his hand
found Grayson’s cock.
“Did you just hear yourself lie . . . about my dick?”
“Shut up.”
“More inches of vanity than you expected?”
“Why are you still talking?”
“How is this a surprise?” Grayson said. “You’ve had your hands on me before.”
“Yeah, but through empath gloves.” Reece curled his palm around Grayson’s dick. “There’s a lot more to feel without heavy
metals in the way.”
“Like what?”
“Like whether or not my fucking fingers can or can’t touch and look, I’m not feeding your ego!
” Their new position on the seat did at least give Reece a tiny bit more room, letting him run his hand along that thick dick while still able to feel Grayson’s stuttering breaths against him, the arms that didn’t seem to want to let him go.
“But damn. Now I really want you to fuck me.”
“That’s your empath lack of self-preservation talking. And I’ll be the one to feed your ego.” Grayson’s voice broke. “You’re way too good at this.”
Reece’s lips grudgingly turned up. He tightened his hand, savoring every sound and shift his strokes drew from Grayson. He
was seeing more than ever, not because of dawn’s arrival, not yet, but because his empathy was dilating his pupils, letting
in even the faintest glow of moonlight on snow.
Now that they could touch, the ideas were endless, and Reece wanted to feel Grayson get off in every possible way and position.
With his free hand, he fumbled for the sleeping bag’s zipper, finding a pull tab on the inside and tugging. “If we aren’t
going to fuck, we’re going to compromise.”
“What’s that mean?”
“What do you think?” With a few inches unzipped, the fabric had enough give that Reece could slip farther down, completely
into the sleeping bag. His lips found Grayson’s ribs, then his stomach, pressing lingering kisses lower and lower.
Grayson swore, his breath coming in sharp pants now. “I think your kiss should be illegal.”
“This isn’t kissing, this is claiming.” Reece ran his tongue over his hip bone. “No more soldiers or scientists. You’re mine
now.”
He didn’t let him answer before taking his cock into his mouth, so that the attempt at words was stolen by the groan from deep in Grayson’s chest. Reece drank in the vibration, not a feeling but a sensation he could ride like one.
His empathy was beyond his control, trying to find something to read, a way to escape into another person and let their feelings subsume his own.
But where trying to read Grayson before had been smashing headfirst into black asphalt, now it was dancing along the edge of a quicksilver pool, unable to dive in but able to let the shimmering mercury carry him away all the same.
The angle was awkward, and yeah, this was a tight fit of its own, but Reece worked him deeper into his mouth anyway, losing
himself in the pleasure signals of Grayson’s body, the flex of muscle, the hitch of breath. He ran his tongue up the hard
length and let Grayson’s answering groan soothe the jagged anger inside him that still wanted revenge, even now. Here, in
this truck, Grayson was his, and no one could reach him without going through Reece first.
Grayson’s hands ran over his hair, his upper back. “Come up here,” he said hoarsely. “I’m too big to maneuver in this damn
thing; I can’t reach you.”
Reece wrapped his hand around the base of Grayson’s cock and didn’t budge.
Hands tugged at his shoulders. “Reece.”
Grayson could try all he wanted to be chivalrous and reciprocate. Too bad; wasn’t happening. Reece wasn’t fucking moving.
They could bury him in this truck on this mountain, with death by Evan Grayson’s cock on his gravestone.
He took Grayson in another inch, and victory rushed him as he heard Grayson’s groan of surrender, felt him finally cede control
completely. Reece fought the sleeping bag so he could twist a little more, get a slightly better angle, use his hand on the
inches that didn’t fit in his mouth, following Grayson’s every noise and twitch like a map. His own excitement was rising,
because corruption hadn’t changed this, hadn’t lessened the heady thrill of causing someone else’s pleasure. And knowing that
it wasn’t just anyone, but Grayson who was losing it under his hands and mouth, well. Reece wasn’t going to last a second
longer than Grayson himself.
When Grayson started tensing, Reece felt the mirroring tenseness in his own body.
The hands in Reece’s hair tightened, just slightly, because even this far gone, Grayson was being careful not to hurt him, and through the muffled sleeping back he thought he heard, or maybe felt, Grayson stutter his name.
And then all of Reece’s coherent thoughts were gone, swallowed by the tide of pleasure that overtook him, and the feel of
Grayson against him, and the bone-deep certainty that whatever happened next, Evan was his and no one could ever take his
touch away again.